Awkward Fumbles
by Andromeda Cain
Summary: All right, watch me fail this summary like a boss. So, in this story, Chandler loves Joey, Joey loves Chandler, but neither know it. Then one night, Joey comes home drunk, and a bunch of shit be goin down. Joey/Chandler, BoyxBoy, don't read it if it gives you the willies.
1. The One Where It All Starts

**Warning(s):** There's a handjob in this chapter, sex later, you definitely shouldn't be here if you're too young or if you're homophobic, 'cuz that's what I'm all about. ;D

**Disclaimer:** Andromeda no own Friends. If she did, she would be propositioning Joey for sex right now. ;D

**Author's Note:** 'Ello, mates, 'tis I, Andromeda Cain! If you have not read my other works, nice to meet you! I hope you enjoy this story. :3

To those who have read my other stories: I apologise. I haven't been able to get on my other account, which is where my partially-written stories reside. So, until then, you'll have to make do with this. I enjoyed it, hope you do too. :D

So, anyhoosins, I've recently started watching Friends. I'm absolutely in love with Joey. I don't care who; as long as he has a male lover, I am content. So, I picked Chandler, since I like his character. There's really not another character on there that I would particularly enjoy seeing; if one pops up, a fanfiction about them will probably pop into my brain too. So, yeah. All rightieloo, let's commence with the reading, eh?

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**C****·****h****·****a****·****n****·****d****·****l****·****e****·****r**

"Life sucks."

This statement that leaves my lips is directed to no one in particular, especially since no one is here. Cupping my head in my hands, I sigh, leaning against the refrigerator. My head goes back to give a bit of reprieve to my neck, but is impeded by a sharp magnet hitting it. My face contorts in pain, giving the magnet the dirtiest glare I can manage as I retreat from my attacker, cradling the back of my injured head. Instead I move to the counter, sitting on it.

Why would I say that life sucks, you ask? Well, I'm not used to giving my personal information out to strangers, but I guess I can make an exception today. At least, until my injury stops impeding my judgment.

You see, my name is Chandler Bing. If that doesn't entail the hardships and strife my life is surrounded by, maybe you need to go to high school with a last name like that. Anyway, besides the obvious name handicap, I have a terrible job, I can't seem to hold down a decent enough relationship, my father is a trannie, and I'm in love with my best friend/roommate, who is, by the way, a guy. So, yeah…do you understand my previous statement now?

I sigh again, leaning all the way back on the counter. My body, which isn't very athletic in the first place, fails me, and I end up smacking my already pain-filled head against the hard surface, causing a manly, dignified yelp to issue from my startled lips.

I sit up, rubbing my head and giving the counter a dirty look too, ignoring how many times I've given inanimate objects a glare today. Better to ignore the craziness; either it goes away or you get used to it.

I decide to go away from these dangerous objects, opting to sit on the couch, leaning back and resting my legs on the coffee table. I've been waiting here for a while now. For who, you ask? Well, I've still got an injury, so…

If you have to know, Joey. You know the guy I was talking about? You know, the one I'm in love with? That's him. Joey Tribiani. Yeah, he's Italian. Just another thing to add to his resumé.

So, yeah, I'm sitting here, like the total pussy I am, just so I can _see_ him. Seriously. That's how pathetically in love I am.

Sure, I've been in relationships before, lots of them (all right, not that many actually), but with all those (okay, the few that I've been with) girls, I've never felt anything that could compare to what I feel when I'm with Joey. Just looking at him, I feel as though maybe I could be more than pathetic. You know, rise to the occasion and turn out a kind of decent guy. But then he cracks one of his stupid jokes to break the tension in the air, or goes off on another date with another blonde bimbo, and I curl into myself, trying to get rid of the despair clawing its way up my stomach, threatening to make me choke.

Yeah, real lighthearted material, I know.

Well, Joey's off on one of those dates right now, probably on his way to getting laid yet again, while I sit here, nursing my rapidly-swelling head half-heartedly. "God, if only…" I whisper to myself, not sure how the sentence should end. If only I had a different job. If only I had the courage to tell Joey. If only I had a different life. Time passes, and I decide to leave my sentence a fragment, unfinished. Maybe if I leave it this way, my words unspoken, I'll finally be able to do something for once in my life.

A sound startles me out of my thoughts. I look up in time to see the lock on the front door moving, the sound of a key scraping against metal and giggles pervading my ears. Joey seems to have trouble locating the catch; when he finally manages to unlock the door I let out a sigh. Might as well prepare myself for the agony of seeing him with this girl he went out with.

I can't look away as I watch the door slowly open, Joey stumbling in, grabbing onto the counter for support. My sigh of relief is uncontainable when I see that no one is accompanying him. He looks up at the noise, his eyes running away from him as he tries to pinpoint the thing that just emitted the noise. He finally notices me, grinning crookedly when he does. "Shmandluh," he slurs out.

"Well, I'll just take the safe bet and guess that you were trying to say my name," I state wryly, if only to cover up the sound of my telltale heart, beating erratically at the sight of Joey's exposed chest, his shirt unbuttoned. I suppose he got hot or something; that or he just walked out on a girl. Judging from the hickies littering his body, I'd say the former.

Joey just pushes away from the counter, bringing his forefinger up to his mouth. "Sh…shhh," he shushes me, stumbling towards me, "yuh'll vake up ze naybuhs wiz zat nozy voice of yuhz."

I can't suppress the chuckle his latest sentence emits out of me. "So what, now you're German or something?" I ask him, standing up and reaching a hand out to steady him, trying and failing not to let it linger on his waist. I'm hyper-aware of my thumb resting on his exposed skin, rubbing it gently on his stomach.

He just giggles, whether from my question or my thumb, which seems to be tickling him, I don't know. All I know is it's getting harder and harder to keep my eyes away from him, from his marred skin, his pink nipples, his full lips. My gaze slowly trails up to his eyes, the dazed look in them portraying just how drunk he is. Maybe that's why I do what I do.

As his mouth opens, probably to say something else incoherently, I press my lips to his, closing my eyes so I won't see his reaction. I'm surprised when he doesn't pull away; actually leans into me, his hands fisting into my shirt. I open my eyes to see his closed, an expression of bliss on his face as he slowly sucks on my bottom lip. Encouraged, I deepen the kiss, running my tongue across his closed lips, asking, almost begging for entrance. He complies, opening his mouth wide enough to fit three tongues in. I grin, still caught up in how funny this guy is drunk. I slide my tongue into his willing mouth, running it across the insides and his teeth, tasting booze, mint, and, confusingly, cotton candy. I wonder at this, which gives Joey time to suck on my now limp tongue, playing with it with his own tongue. I let out an appreciative groan, my arms encircling around his waist.

I slowly lead us to the couch, pulling Joey on top of me. He gets the idea, straddling my hips as he lets go of my tongue, digging his pelvis against my own. Our moans are synchronized, my penis twitching almost violently. I'm harder than I've been in my entire life, and we're not even naked. He smiles into our kiss, nuzzling into my neck affectionately. I breathe in a shuddering breath, cupping his groin in my hand. He giggles, moving his hips against it to get some friction. I comply, rubbing hard against his rough jeans. I ignore the growing red mark on my hand, satisfied as long as Joey is.

His thrusts grow deeper, faster, shorter. I'm trying to move my hand fast enough, but I guess it's not working. He just grips my wrist with his two hands, keeping it in place as he keeps thrusting, his eyes closed, his head leaning back. My eyes are hooded in want, unable to think anything but _'Joey's dry-humping my hand!'_

His thrusts come to a crescendo, faster than you would think possible. He throws his head back, his mouth open wide. "_Ungh,_" he cries, and with that sound he comes, twice. He stays there for a while, perched on my hand, still holding my wrist. I can't take my eyes away from the wet stain on his jeans, the urge to lick it unable to leave my mind. I'm just stretching out my neck when he pulls off of me, pushing me to the corner as he rests his head on my lap, stretching out on the full length of the couch. Never mind my extremely large, hard-to-ignore hard-on that he's breathing on, just making me more sensitive.

"Godammit…of course you would fall asleep," I breathe out, unable to tear my eyes away from his mouth, so damn close to my penis. I'm too polite to wake him up, instead I just shift his head away from me, enough room that I can now stand up and walk to the bathroom, to get rid of this thing. Hey, at least I have a bunch of actual images to jerk off to this time.

* * *

When I've finished (it took me about three times to get rid of the erection), I leave the bathroom, gasping when I see Joey, lying out on the couch. His legs are spread wide, his hand resting on his stained crotch, his other hand covering his right nipple, his mouth partially open. I put my hand to my mouth, trying to muffle the moan of need that escapes my lips. My penis already half-hard, I abandon the idea of returning to the couch, realising that I would just have to go immediately back to the bathroom.

I let out a wistful sigh, keeping my eyes on Joey as I make my way to my room, backing into it so I can keep looking at him for as long as possible. I finally close the door, my last sight of Joey being his face, so peaceful as it lays there, unaware of my desire. I pull off my shirt and jeans, lying back on my bed, pulling my arm over my eyes.

"There's no way I can fall asleep no—" in the midst of this sentence I fall asleep, my mouth still open as though still wishing to complete my statement.

* * *

I awake the next morning, unsure of how much of last night was part of a seriously wet dream. Well, seeing as I don't have a ginormous boner right now, I'm assuming it really did happen. I rise from my bed, anticipation, fear, and excitement roiling around in my belly. I get dressed quickly, tripping over my feet three times before successfully becoming unnaked. I smooth down my shirt, taking a look at myself in the mirror. Not great, but okay.

I walk to the door, taking a deep breath. Who knew how hard it could be to just open something. I finally pull in enough courage to open it partially, peeking my head around the corner. There I see Joey, dressed in different clothing than last night, stretched out on the couch with his feet stacked upon each other on the coffee table, nursing a mug of black coffee. He looks deep in thought, and I'm kinda scared to go out there, wondering what exactly will be in store for me. He doesn't look too happy; maybe he regrets what happened last night.

I pull away from the door, my brow furrowing as I clutch my chest. Does he regret it? Damn, I don't know how I'll take that piece of knowledge if he gives it to me. It's suddenly hard to breathe as I keep thinking about this, so I stop, shoving these thoughts deep inside my brain. Time to go out there and meet the man with the power to either make my life miserable or wonderful.

I push the door open, watching as Joey winces at the slamming sound it makes. "Sorry," I let out, walking to the counter and grabbing my own cup of coffee, adding a bit of sugar. I've never been able to drink it black. I move out of the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I face Joey, unsure of how to continue. Do I just blatantly bring it up?

Turns out, I don't have to. "So, about last night," Joey starts, looking up at me. I hold my breath, unable to speak, so I just nod, hoping he'll continue. He does. "So, I had a ton to drink, and a lot of everything is fuzzy. Really, I don't remember anything after I left the club. So, what happened, did I humiliate myself or something?" He asks, a sheepish grin on his face.

I stand there, glad that the counter's there to support me, or else I might fall over. My mouth's open but nothing's coming out, and my eyes are wide in shock. "Yo-you…don't remember _anything_?" I stutter out, grabbing onto the bottom of my shirt.

He smiles, a confused look on his face. "No, I really don't. What, did I do something terrible?" He asks, an amused expression appearing. I'll bet he's imagining all the crazy things he could do.

I keep standing there, unable to tell if I feel relieved or crestfallen at this news. Probably both. I put on an annoyed expression, though, to mask my hurt. "Yeah, you made a bunch of noise and woke me up," I state, closing my eyes in what I hope he sees as consternation. "Seriously, I didn't get enough sleep. But, anyway, I've gotta go to the bank, some stuff's going on with my account, so I'll see you later, okay man?" I ask, not waiting for a response. I grab a coat and set my coffee next to the sink, untouched. I quickly make my way out the door, leaning against it once I've closed it. A tear, unbidden, falls from my eye and I take in a shaky breath, trying to compose myself as I leave the building.

* * *

Inside the apartment, Joey sits, a surprised expression on his face. "The bank? But…it's a Sunday," he says to no one, sitting there for a few more seconds before getting up from his seat. He dumps his and Chandler's coffee in the sink, leaning against it once he's finished. He can't get the image of Chandler's crestfallen face from his mind. He sighs, rubbing his hand across his eyes, unaware of how adorable that is. "Of course I would pretend I don't remember last night," he whispers, as though Chandler's still there, "because I know you didn't want that to happen."

He takes in a shaky breath, pushing off of the counter and picking up the phone. "Sharon!" he calls out when the person he's called picks up, "sorry for ditching you last night; I had an emergency to take care of. How about I make it up to you and take you out tonight?" He nods and makes affirmative noises, then says, "Yeah, sounds great, see you there."

He sets the phone down, leaning against the counter that Chandler had just recently occupied. He stays there, pretending that Chandler's still there, holding him in his arms.


	2. The One With the Three Nipples

"So when I get inside her house finally, I find out why she wouldn't let me get to second base. She actually has _three_ nipples!"

The whole gang breaks out into a chorus of "Ew!"s and"Gross"es and one "Did you still stay?" from Ross, to which Joey replies with an affirmative nod. Ross whoops, holding his hand out, which Joey slaps. I try to act normal, nodding in agreement when Monica asks me if I think that's gross. I can't shake the paranoid feeling that the grin I have pasted onto my face isn't fooling anyone, especially when I see Joey's eyes slide towards mine, a silent question in his gaze. I just wave him off, taking a sip of my coffee, hoping no one will notice how uncomfortable I am.

Looks like that isn't working. Next to me on the couch, Phoebe stirs, shaking my shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to do some chants or something?" She asks me, her gaze serious. I bark out a laugh, but stop when her grip on my shoulder gets harder.

"N-no!"I yelp, jumping away from her, ramming into Monica.

"Hey, maybe try to stay seated, huh?" She says, her eyes narrowed, pushing me back towards Phoebe.

"Sorry,"I gasp out, catching myself before I run into Phoebe. I don't want a repeat of what just happened. I turn to her, trying to play it cool as I stretch my arms out, resting them on the top of the couch. "You know, just creeped out by Joey's story," I state, in reply to Phoebe's previous statement. I pray to God that no one notices the shake in my voice when I say his name, unable to keep my eyes from finding him, stretched out on an armchair next to the couch, talking animatedly to Ross, who is across from him. Rachel walks up, oblivious to the customers right next to us who need a refill, resting her arm on Joey's back. I resist the urge to push her off of him, chanting over and over in my mind, _'She's not into him like that, she's not into him like that, she—oh dear God, is her hand stroking his hair?'_

Turns out, her arm just slipped on his shirt, which resulted in her spilling some coffee on him. "Jesus!" Joey cries out, jumping up from his chair and hopping in place. "Rach, that seriously burned me! And you stained my shirt!" He gestures down to his white v-neck, which, I can't help but notice, now shows some of his skin.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Come on, Joey, take your shirt off, and I'll get you a new one from the back," she says, setting the pot of coffee down, so as to prevent from any other accidents.

Joey complies, stripping his shirt off as though it's not that big of a deal. My arms, which are still stretched out on the couch, start to ache, and that's when I realise I'm gripping onto the fabric extremely hard. There, standing in all his glistening, rather pink (from the coffee) glory, is Joey, his perfectly toned, gloriously naked chest out in the open. I bite back a moan, crossing my legs, hoping the action isn't too noticeable.

Joey seems oblivious, swiping at his skin, trying to cool it off. He looks up when Rachel comes back, a too-small shirt clutched in between her hands. "Here ya go, it's the biggest one I could find."

His gaze is questioning, right until the shirt is over his head. He pulls it down, then just stares at himself, his eyes unbelieving. "You have to be kidding me!" Joey exclaims. The shirt only goes down mid-waist, stopping just above his belly button. Everyone starts laughing, so I do too, my tone higher and rising. Everybody turns to me when I reach Michael Jackson pitch, their gazes caught between amused and freaked out.

I just laugh again. "Hey, anybody notice how hot it is in here?" I ask no one, tugging at the collar of my shirt, hoping to take their attention off of me. They keep staring for a few minutes, before finally turning back to the more immediate problem.

"If I have to walk around like this, I'm gonna get jumped," Joey states, his hands on his hips.

"Don't count on it," Rachel says under her breath, picking up the coffee pot to put more of her weaponry in.

Joey just shakes his head, sighing. "Well, anyway, I gotta get out of here. I'll see you at the apartment, Chandler?"

My head shoots up, my cheeks coloring. For a second there, it sounded like he was my boyfriend or something. I shake my head to clear these unattainable dreams, placing my hands in my lap. "Yeah, see you there," I let out, putting on a weak smile.

Joey stands there for a beat, looking like he has something to say, before letting it drop. "All right, guys, see ya later," he says, grinning as he leaves the coffee shop. His grin turns into a frown as a couple passing by laugh. "Yeah, I do have a tiny shirt on," he spits at them, stomping off in the direction of our apartment.

The gang laughs, turning away from his retreating form. I can't help but watch him through the window, though, as he flips the bird to a bunch of teenagers, who appear to be taunting him.

I finally turn back when I can't see him anymore, resigned to listening to my friends' inane talk, wishing that the Italian big-mouth was still here.

* * *

An hour later I'm walking back to the apartment, my hands shrugged into my pockets, my body hunched into itself. I close my eyes as the craving for a cigarette comes, hoping this wave will pass. I suck in a breath, thinking maybe that will help avert my thoughts. Instead, I get a lungful of second hand smoke, making my mouth water. I shake my head violently, startling a pair of nuns walking by me.

I reach the apartment, my eyes wide. I ignore the people outside the building, cigarettes in their hands and mouths. "Come on, Chandler, you're almost home…"I whisper to myself, making my way up the stairs. I breathe in a sigh of relief when I finally reach the door, surprised when I find it ajar. Well, that's weird.

I quietly push it open, surveying the house. And that's when I see him.

Whatever clever little quip I was going to use about Joey leaving the door open dies on my lips. All I can do is stand there, mouth agape, unable to peel my eyes away.

Gripped between Joey's shaking fingers is his penis. He's stretched out horizontally on the couch, his back to me, so he doesn't see me. He's slowly stroking up and down, his shoulders shaking. "Ch…" he says. I can only catch part of his phrase, his voice is so low. He says it again, this time louder. "Chan…" His cock, fully erect and flushed with pleasure, twitches at the sound of his voice. His thumb slips up, kneading the head. He sticks it into the slit, making him growl in ecstasy. "Ch-Chandler!" He grinds out between his teeth, slipping his hand under that tiny shirt to tweak a nipple.

I keep standing there, almost unable to believe my ears, until he says my name again, this time in a low, purring voice. I'm unable to stop myself from what happens next.

I walk over there, observing Joey. His eyes are now shut, and his mind is off in a pleasured state, so he doesn't seem to notice me for now. That's about to change.

I climb on top of him, licking his firmly shut lips. He lets out a small whimper, stroking himself faster. That is, until he gets his bearings. His eyes shoot open suddenly, just in time to catch me dip my head low, licking a trail from his collarbone to the corner of his mouth.

"Ch-Chandler!" He cries out, shooting out from under me to the opposite end of the couch. He's slipped his penis back inside his pants, and is now buttoning them up.

"Aw, now why'd you go and do a thing like that?" I ask, a forlorn expression on my face. I really like the look of his penis.

"Wha….what the hell? Chandler, what are you saying?" He asks, blushing. The red is spreading to his ears, and down his neck.

I ignore his question, skooching closer to him on the couch. He retreats, skooching back further. "Did you say my name?" I ask, my voice and expression equally serious. I'm not letting him out of this; not if I can help it.

It seems that Joey's whole body burns a shade of red, and I almost reach out a finger, wondering if his body temperature's become hotter. He stammers, unable to form a sentence. He just skooches back further, and I follow, until he's run out of room. He doesn't seem to notice; just skooches back again, to fall on his ass. "Ow!" He cries, rubbing his sore butt. I lick my lips, wondering at myself and what turns me on.

Joey seems to get his bearings, suddenly jumping up. I follow. He backs up, his arms up in a defensive stance. "Come on, Ch-Chandler, leave me alone," he says, his voice quivering at the mention of my name. This makes me keep moving, until he's trapped against the wall. I plant my hands on the wall on either side of his head, my expression unreadable.

"I said…" I whisper into his ear, reveling in the shiver it warrants from him, "Did. You. Say. My. Name."

Joey shudders, biting his lip. He ducks his head, his black hair covering his eyes. "You…you don't have to worry," he says in a small voice. I widen my eyes, surprised. He continues. "It's probably just a phase; I'm sure I won't be attracted to you for long. But I still want to be friends, if that's possible. I know what happened last night freaked you ou—"

"Wait a fucking second." I slam my fist into the wall next to him, to make a point. He jumps, his head shooting up to look at me, his eyes questioning.

"First of all. You remember last night? And you didn't tell me?" Joey's about to stammer a response, but I cover his mouth with my hand. "Second. Why would I worry? I like you just as much as you like me!" Joey's eyes widen, his mouth opening beneath my hand. "And finally. This better as hell not be just a phase; if it is, I'll still keep trying to make you fall for me," I finish, my gaze determined.

I release Joey's mouth. He keeps standing there, a kind of dumb look on his face. I wave my hand over his glazed eyes. "Hey, Joey, you still there?" I ask, a half-smile on my face.

"Bu…but it doesn't make sense! Why do you like _me?"_ He asks, and I'm surprised. There's a very angry look on his face, his stance aggravated.

"What, you think it's weird for a guy to like another guy?" I ask, setting my lip in a stubborn way.

"Well…no. I think it's weird for people to like _me._ You know, the girls I'm with are never going out with me 'cuz of my personality. Is that how it is for you, too?" His hands are clenched at his sides, his brow furrowed in anguish.

I sigh. Lifting his face with my forefinger, I quell all his stupid notions with a chaste kiss to his mouth. His eyes widen, looking up at me with a scared look, tears building at the corners of his eyes. I smile into our kiss, licking away a tear that's fallen to the corner of his mouth.

"I-it doesn't make sense," he blubbers out, rubbing at the tears with the back of his hand.

"Joey…" I say, grabbing his wrists and restraining them against the wall above our heads. I lean in close, my lips tickling his cheek as I speak. "I love you."


	3. The One With Awkward Fumbles

**Author's Note: **So. Last chapter. Sex, smutty little sex. It's my first sex story, like, ever, so please be gentle with the criticism.

I really enjoyed writing this; hope you guys enjoy reading it. Well, nice to have you, make sure you stop by my other stories and discover just how much of a terrible writer I am! (But I make up for it with my Author's Notes...no? Whoops, sorry.)

* * *

'_He's so damn beautiful.'_

This thought occurs to me as I slowly thrust into Joey, my slow movements bringing absolute pleasure to my groin, causing my eyelids to flutter and head to tilt back. My eyes stay on Joey, though, his face contorted in impatience. His breathing is slowed, every shuddery breath just another indication of how fed up he is with me. Finally, he gets tired of it. "_Fuck,_ Chandler, just—ah," he pauses when my penis accidentally brushes against something soft inside him. He catches his breath, before continuing. "Just do something other than this; maybe pick up the speed, or something. I'm starting to go soft, man." He squints his eyes at me, and I look down to his penis, stuck between our stomachs. I stopped my ministrations as Joey started talking, and just resting inside of Joey is enough to make me want to lose it. I reign in my libido, though. I know that wouldn't be nearly as awesome for Joey as it would be for me.

"Sorry, Joe," I say breathlessly, placing a placating kiss on his clavicle, "I'll try to go faster." I demonstrate by speeding up a little, and he sighs out a puff of exasperated breath.

"Fuck it," he bites out, and suddenly his hands are on my shoulders, pushing himself off of my dick. I'm about to start crying from the lack of warm, tightness around Little Chandler before he's pushing me back, my head hitting the floor, hard. I wince, just as he straddles my hips. "Hold your dick straight, Chan," he says, and I do as told, wondering where he's going with this. I find out when he lifts himself up, one hand resting on my stomach and the other stretching his ass as he slowly starts to bend his legs, and now his hole is lined up with the head of my cock and he's taking in a shaky breath as he slowly lets himself go down, his eyes shut tight and his teeth grit. I try to remember just exactly how I learned to breathe as I see my penis slowly disappear, replaced with the beautiful sight of Joey's stretching asshole. We both hitch our breath at the same time when he finally reaches the end of his journey; Joey's seated on my lap now and it's just so much fucking _deeper_ than before.

My eyes try to shut as Joe wriggles a bit, getting used to how deep I am, but I don't let them. Joey's just too fucking beautiful, the way his shoulders shake as he tries to keep himself under control, the way his black, medium-length hair falls as he shakes his head back, his eyes closed and mouth open as he slowly starts to move up and down on me, searching for that thing I found once before. When he does, it's like fucking heaven on earth. His eyes pop open, his chest rises as he holds his breath, a whimpery, sexy, absolutely _whoreish_ gasp of ecstasy escaping his lips. My cock twitches inside him and he lets out another one of those gasps, his movements increasing in speed. I feel like I'm gonna lose it at any second, the way he's bobbing up and down on top of me, his penis jumping, hitting his stomach every time he moves up, leaking precum like a fucking pro…I let out a little whoreish gasp of pleasure of my own when one of his hands travels up to his nipple, tweaking it with relish. "God, _fuck_ Joe, I'm gonna co-come if-f you don't st-stop soon!" I gasp out, my eyelids not quite closed as they watch him keep moving, going as fast as possible on my penis, a sexy moan escaping from his wet, parted lips every time my head brushes against his prostate.

He opens his eyes enough to allow him to give me a look that screams, 'No shit, what do you think you're supposed to do?' I gasp out a little trickle of laughter, which soon escapes me as he somehow goes faster, the friction and the heat and the speed just becoming all too much for me; "Joe—Joe, fuck, I'm gonna—" he nods in understanding, speeding up even faster, and suddenly my eyelids are fluttering and my penis is exploding as a hot flash of what seems like lightning hits my brain, my eyes are trying to roll back in my head but it's impossible not to look at Joey who's also losing himself, his head thrown back, one hand curled around his penis, which is unloading his load onto his face and my stomach, his lips parted as something like a whine or scream of pleasure emits from his throat, just making me come harder. "Fuck, _Joe,_" I cry as I explode inside of him, my hands that somehow traveled up to his hips letting my fingernails dig into his skin, which just seems to excite us both even more.

We finally lose our steam. Joe's just sitting on my dick, his eyes still shut and his head still thrown back as he just breathes in deeply, trying to catch breath that's just not coming to him. I slowly release his hips from my claws, which seem to have broken skin, if the trail of blood starting to mix with a bit of his come is any indication.

Joey finally seems to have found lucidity. He opens his eyes, smiling down at me with a glow that only sex can give you as he gingerly pulls himself off of me, wincing a little as he's finally released from my penis. He groans, rubbing close to his backside as he sits down on my heaving chest. "Shit, Chan, my asshole feels terrible," Joey states, biting his lip.

"Turn around, lemme see," I command, and Joey does as I tell him. What I see makes me get a semi straight away. His hole is leaking come, _my_ come, stretched due to _my_ penis, red from the friction of _my_ penis. I take in a shuddering breath at the sight, hoping I don't get a heart attack of pleasure. I'm about to turn him around when I see a little blood mixed in, dripping out of him. "Shit, Joey, you're bleeding!" I exclaim, touching the rim of his hole gingerly.

He gasps a little. "Yeah, no shit," he says to me, pointing to the back of his hips, where four crescent-shaped scars leak blood.

I wince in sympathy, before looking to his face, which is twisted around his shoulder. "No, Joe, you're bleeding inside too," I declare, wiping a sample off his ass and holding it up for him to examine. He takes in a sharp breath of surprise.

"Jesus, didn't think that would happen," Joey comments, shaking his head confusedly. "Gay sex is way different than what I'm used to."

I shake my head, an amused smile on my face. "Really, now? What's it like, then?" I ask, almost afraid to hear Joey's answer. There's a cause.

"Kinda like a big shit that just keeps popping up when you let it out," he states, his face totally serious. He flips around so he can talk without having to strain his neck.

I facepalm, sighing into my hand. "Christ, Joey, you could take any sexy circumstance and just ruin it, huh?" I comment, shaking my head.

Joey looks at me, confused. "What? You asked me what it was like, and I told you. 'M not saying it was bad, actually, when I found that really good spot, it was fucking _unbelievable_," Joey breathes, his cheeks flushing a little at the memory. I blush too, grabbing onto his neck and pulling him down to place a gentle, loving kiss on his lips.

When we part, I smile up at him, absolute completion in my features. "Well, Joe, I hope that someday you realise that 'really good spot' is the same place the doctor checks when you get a _prostate_ exam," I state, biting my lip to hide my laughter at Joey's flabbergasted look.

"No!" He exclaims, his features disbelieving.

"Yes!" I respond, my laughter exploding out of my mouth.

Joey frowns, thinking. "Wait a minute…so, the same place Mr. Merce checks is the place that makes me shoot my load?" He states quizzically, piecing together the evidence with slow but steady thoughts. At the mention of Joey's load, I can't help but look at some semen that's resting on his cheek, then all the come that's coating my stomach. I pull Joey's face to mine, lick his come off his face, and groan in pleasure. He sighs, his eyes fluttering closed as he begins to forget about his previous confusing thoughts.

I smile, sitting up and pushing Joey back, my hand cradling his head as he hits the floor. I kiss him deeply for a second, my tongue brushing against his own, before leaving his lips, sucking at the skin on his neck, leaving enough marks to mark him as mine but not seem too possessive. I bite a piece of his neck, then his shoulder, before trailing a path with my tongue, swirling it around his nipples before traveling down farther, sucking at his stomach muscles, leaving a few marks there, before kissing those indents that start Joey's ilium, then traveling to his pubic hair, nosing against the tough hairs. He gasps, his cock slowly coming back to life. I grin against his skin, moving my lips down to suck at the inside of his thighs, leaving big red marks behind as I switch to his other thigh. When I finally raise my head, I realise his penis has also risen. I smirk, satisfied.

He looks down to me with half-shut eyes, his mouth open and panting out breaths as he stares, hoping that what he thinks is going to happen will happen. I grin up at him, before switching my attention fully to the hard, red, throbbing erection in front of me. I lick my lips at the thought of getting them around that thing, and my cock twitches almost painfully. I move my face closer to him, breathing on his penis, the warm hot breath causing him to moan in need. "Fu-fuck, Chan, come _on_," he pants out, his eyebrows twisting together in frustration and his eyes shutting in consternation. I giggle, planting a wet kiss on the skin right next to his penis. He growls in frustration, muttering out phrases that are too low to hear. I'm about to continue teasing him when he sits up suddenly, pulling me up with him. He stares deeply into my eyes, a serious expression on his face. "Chandler," he starts, his tone reprimanding, "nobody likes a tease."

I nod to show that I understand, biting my lip to keep laughter from escaping them; a trickle of giggles are released from between my parted lips, though. He glares at me, and I raise my hands to show I mean no harm. "Hah, alright, Joe, lay back down, I won't tease you anymore," I say to appease him. He studies me for a few seconds, his gaze distrustful, before his pride finally loses to his penis.

"Better not tease me anymore, fucker," he bites out as he lets himself fall back, crossing his arms across his chest when he finally becomes horizontal again.

I smile, moving my attention back down to his aching member. "Mm, your cock is fucking _sexy_, Joe," I state, before licking a hot, wet trail from the base of his penis to the tip. He takes in a shuddering breath, his legs moving a little at the sensation. I grab the base of his cock, stroking it as I kiss the tip of it, my tongue slipping out to swirl around it, my mouth slowly moving farther down as Joey's breathing starts to hitch and his hands twist into my hair, pulling hard enough to hurt. I try to smile, but it's kind of hard when you've got a penis in your mouth.

I slowly move my head down, eating up more of Joey's dick. It's substantial in its amount; it'll definitely be hard to fit it all in my mouth, but hey, who says Chandler Bing can't handle a challenge? As if accepting one, I move my head down farther, so that I have to move my hand in order to go further. Now, he's fully inside my mouth; I can feel the blood rushing through it as if it has a pulse all on its own, and I moan, the vibrations traveling to his penis and making him thrust into me without precedence. I'm surprised at how sexy this is to me; my eyes travel up to Joey's, which are watching me, before letting one of my hands reach down to stroke at my own penis, extremely hard. If there was ever any doubt about my being gay, it all flew out the window when my penis started aching at the feeling, sight, taste of Joey's dick inside my mouth. I moan again, moving my head up and down, my hand keeping in time with my mouth.

Joey moans, his hips bucking up to meet my mouth now, pretty much fucking my mouth. And it's absolutely fucking _incredibly_ sexy. We both moan together as my ministrations pick up speed, precum leaking out of my penis as I start to feel myself grow closer and closer to the edge. "Cha—Chandler, wait, I'm, I'm gonna—ah…" I stop him from speaking by adding gentle teeth to the mix, which makes him gasp out a moan of pleasure, need, ecstasy, which just makes my penis ache and my hand speed up and suddenly I'm coming but that's not important; I let my penis go to plant both of my hands on Joey's hips, my mouth enclosing his entire penis as he comes inside my mouth, the salty liquid tasting better than anything before. I feel Joey's body slowly relax, losing tension as he falls back against the floor, his chest rising as he breathes heavily. I pull my mouth off of his penis with a pop, licking a drip of his come away from the corner of my mouth. I smile down at Joey, before going in for a kiss. He stops me with an outstretched hand. "Dude, no offense, but there's no way I wanna taste my come, even if it's on your mouth," he states, a grossed out expression on his face.

I'm about to stammer out a response when suddenly I hear a thud behind me. I whip my head around and Joey sits up and looks over my shoulder to find the cause. What we see leaves me with my mouth hanging open and Joey with reddening cheeks. It's Phoebe, Monica, Rachel, and Ross, all staring at us in disbelief.

We all just stay where we are for a few seconds, none of us able to put words to our thoughts, when Joey finally stands up, his cheeks red as he looks away from them. "Well, nice to know there's privacy in our apartment," he states, picking up his boxers and stepping into them, throwing my own to me. I fumble with them a few seconds before I finally pull them up.

"What the—" "When in the—" "Why—" "HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?!"

The last speaker was Ross; he looks the most shocked, his eyes wide and his expression disbelieving as he tries to take in the fact that his two guy best friends were just going at it together. Both Joey and I look a little ashamed. Joey rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as I pull my pants on, trying to explain in the process. "Well, um, guys, you see, uh…Joey and I, uh…we're, kind of, don't freak out Ross, kinda going out…" I end, zipping my pants up as if to accentuate the point.

"No way!" Phoebe gasps out, a surprised grin on her face. She turns to Ross, her hand out expectantly. "Pay up, loser!" She cries, laughing.

"Dammit, guys!" Ross exclaims, fishing in his pockets and handing Phoebe a fifty dollar bill, "Now Phoebe wins!" He sighs, pouting petulantly as he stares at us in anger.

Joey, in the process of pulling his pants up, lets them drop. "Wait…" he states, eyes wide, "You guys don't care that we're gay? You…you just wanna win a bet?" He asks, his tone disbelieving.

"Well, yeah, I mean, I always kinda knew you two had a thing for each other, I mean Chandler, you were getting ready to hump Joey when he took his shirt off at the coffee shop," Phoebe states, studying the bill to make sure it's real.

Rachel grins, walking up to Joey and grabbing his hands excitedly. "Joey! I'm so happy! You guys finally got together!" Her grin disappears for a moment, to be replaced with a dissatisfied frown. "But you should have told me earlier! It's not fair that I have to learn the way the others did," she states, shaking her head.

Joey looks away, fidgeting. "Well, Rach, it was kinda soon…about a day ago, actually," he states, and all our friends gasp.

"Dammit!" Monica declares, handing a twenty to Phoebe, her expression rigid. "You guys suck," she states, joining Ross in misery.

Joey and I share a look; both of us are pretty overwhelmed with the news and how underwhelmed all our friends, who shouldn't have known about us, knew. A few thoughts finally connect after a few seconds. "Wait, you told Rachel?" I ask Joey in surprise.

Joey fidgets uncomfortably again. "Well, uh, yeah, it's kinda hard to go through loving someone and not know if they love you back," he states, then looks down to see his pants are still around his ankles. He pulls them up self-consciously.

I shake my head. Unbelievable; I suffered through what I though was my unrequited love while Joey had a confidante; wish I'd thought of that. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Well, guys, this is nice and all, but maybe you should, like, give us some privacy?" I tell them, hoping to God no one notices the come on my chest; not likely.

Phoebe sniggers. "Yeah, we'll let you guys get back to…what you were doing," she states, staring pointedly at my naked chest and the liquid drying on it. Both Joey and I blush at this; in less than a second we're both ushering everyone out, ignoring their harmless gibes and closing the door on their laughter.

When we're finally alone, Joey and I look at each other. "So, mutual showering?" He asks, and I nod my head excitedly in agreement.

FIN MOTHAFUCKAS


End file.
